C'est toujours toi, et moi, et toi...
by leah-chan
Summary: Spike figures out a way to get around the chip and goes after Buffy. (post


C'est toujours toi, et moi, et toi... (It's always you, and me, and you...)  
  
She feels it the moment it hits her system, her blood rushing it along, betraying her, infecting her from the inside out. She feels the cold in the wake of that vital life-giving liquid that keeps pumping through her veins, slip sliding through tissue she can smell turn black and limp and useless.  
  
The fearless Vampire Slayer gets taken down by a cup of coffee.  
  
Somewhere, Kendra's laughing. She just hopes that that somewhere isn't overly warm, because what chance would she have if *Kendra* went There. Like He did. And hey, who else would she think about during death-throws than *Him*? Maybe she could make it to L.A. just to see Him one more time and she could - who cares if he loses His soul? 'Cause she's sure not going to live to care about it anymore. Willow can just buy new fish and she was certain He said He'd never want to spend Eternity without her so, yeah, someone gets to use Mr. Pointy one last time.  
  
/"Remind me to get you a stuffed animal."/  
  
She wonders briefly who the next One's gonna be, how long *she's* gonna last. Maybe the next'll break her oldest-Slayer-ever record, or maybe Faith'll last long enough in prison to see middle age... And what kind of crisis does the Slayer who's done everything have?  
  
And who cares that she can't feel her toes in her brand-new strappy Nine Wests that looked so good with that skirt with the ruffle trim at the bottom... Maybe once she's dead Glory'll raid her closet in her search for the key, and yeah, that blue number would look great with her eyes. Oh, and oops, sorry Giles, guess you're a father now. Does it really matter that your bouncy new girl's really age-old energy manifested into a boy-crazed teen?  
  
/"Dear god, Buffy, there's only so much I can take."/  
  
And dammit, when was her life supposed to flash before her eyes? Wasn't she supposed to see swinging with Dawn at the park near her old school? The way the light bounced off of the walls of the pizza place across the street from the burning gymnasium? Or the way her Dad used to ruffle her hair even though she spend *so* long making it look good? Or all of her mother's broken dishes that she kept in the boxes in the attic? Or the coppery taste that never, never left his mouth no matter how much he tried to hide it? Or Xander's air of quiet desperation? Or making Willow go speechless? Or Giles always hiding behind ritual and habit too afraid to lose control? Or sleeping with holy water under he pillow? Or the way that one tile in the back room squeaked? Or that lost look that lived behind Spike's eyes?  
  
/"The second - the second that happens - you know I'll be there."/  
  
So, there are ways to kill people without hurting them. Way to go Spike. She'll never figure out how he managed to get to her but damn damn damn! Army technology, couldn't they ever focus on anything but violence for **once*? But the others are safe, she's sure, he's probably off to go back to his Dark Princess now that she's out of the way. It really was only a matter of time before the dog figured out how the destroy the muzzle and it's Spike 3 - Slayers 0.  
  
/"It's so early to be dark..."/  
  
She sorry now, so so sorry that she never, never told Faith that she was the strongest person she knew, that she never got to say good-bye, and she could never bring herself to tell her hoe much she loved her. Sorry that she never rally watched the sun rise. Sorry that she never gave Xander a real chance. Sorry that the summers DNA died with her, now. Sorry that she never really got to know Tara. Sorry that she never tried to learn from Anya. Sorry that she never truly understood her powers. Sorry that she never saw England with Giles. Sorry that she lost so much of her live to someone she could never love. Sorry about *everything* she had done to Him, just 'cause.  
  
/"Close your eyes..."/  
  
She's crying now, tears pouring down her face, stripping away the make-up that always covered. Washing away the fear and pain and hate and love and everything she's ever been. Drowning out the phone ringing and the padding of cat-like movements away from her window. Hiding away all the strength and courage and leaving just her, just mascara-streaked face and shaking hands and cold, cold, cold legs and arms and soul.  
  
And she expected so much worse. Demons and bones breaking and blood everywhere and a closed casket with so many shocked people but never, never this, this betrayal. She didn't even know the number to call and the fridge is so very far from her now and everything is dark like the ink swirling in that spiral that never ended when He tensed his muscles...  
  
But now it's too late.  
  
Spike will never know that she was lying because she's so so scared of everything that could have been. And she's going to die because everyone he's ever loved has rejected him and he's scared too.  
  
Faith will never know that there could have been something, anything but what was, because they couldn't deal with It. The couldn't do anything but fight, because they didn't really know how.  
  
Angel will never know that she never wanted the sun and that normal only happened in fairy-tales of helpless princesses and dark princes that still breathed, and she always like the dragon the best.  
  
And the last thing she sees is the blinking light on the answering machine and the broken ceramic mug that's so so white against the black black all around. And her last breath feels like she's swallowing broken glass and it's just so much easier to stop for just... one... moment...  



End file.
